


How to punish a monster

by NeverHadThePlot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Master & Servant, Punishment, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverHadThePlot/pseuds/NeverHadThePlot
Summary: Merlin believes he is a monster. He doesn't deserve love and kindness, only pain and suffering. What happens when Arthur finds him cutting himself after he'd yelled at him? How does the Prince help his servant?





	How to punish a monster

Merlin was a monster, he knew. He had magic and therefore he was evil. He tried his best to be good. He tried to be good for his mother, who couldn’t cope anymore and sent him away. He tried to be good for Gaius, who piled on chores, told him off for being late and called him a stupid boy. Merlin knew he didn’t deserve love or affection. He was a monster, and that only afforded him the right to be punished.

He tried to be good for Arthur, more so than anyone. When he humiliated his sire by not affixing his armour correctly, he stayed up all night so that he would know how the following day. He betrayed himself with hope, he hoped Arthur might be pleased with him for learning so quickly. But he forgot his master’s sword and was berated for his tardiness. These things he accepted Arthur’s punishments for. He stood still as the Prince threw objects at him, allowing him to hit him. He allowed himself to be locked in the stocks and humiliated.

And when he committed the crime of sorcery, he would punish himself, for he could not bring himself to tell his prince that he was protected by a monster.

…

Merlin made his way up to Arthur’s room, a tray of food balanced in one hand and a basket of laundry under his arm. He ducked around the other servants, feet moving quickly as he didn’t want to be late today. You see, it was his name day, and he didn’t want to give Arthur reason to be upset.

Quiet as he was able, Merlin crept into the Prince’s chambers and placed his tray on his table before turning to wake Arthur. He pulled the curtains back quickly, allowing light to flood the room.

“Good morning Sire,” he greeted cheerfully.

“Merlin!” Arthur groaned, turning over and burying his face into the pillow.

“Up and at ‘em sire, you have a meeting with the king in an hour.”

Arthur’s response to that was to chuck a boot at his head. Merlin braced himself for impact, but was surprised when it flew straight past him and crashed into the breakfast tray, causing the plate full of food to skid along the table and collide with the floor.

Merlin gasped and stared wide eyed at the table.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled at him. “Look what you did you worthless idiot.”

Merlin flinched at the tone and stumbled back a step.

“Honestly, can’t you do anything right?” Arthur was in his face, yelling now.

“I, I-” Merlin stumbled over his words, panic was flaring inside of him, his heart beating ferociously as the words crashed over him. Useless. Idiot. Freak. Nobody could love you.

Monster.

“Well? What are you standing there for idiot? Clean it up!” Arthur yelled at him.

Merlin snapped himself out of it a little and scrambled around the table to clean up. As he went about his job, he berated himself internally. He had been doing so well, Arthur hadn’t yelled at him for weeks, his insult of ‘idiot’ had almost seemed fond at times. Clearly Merlin had forgotten his place. He was a monster, he didn’t deserve to have friends, least of all the friendship of his prince who would kill him if he knew the truth.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go and fetch me another breakfast!” Arthur yelled at him, his stomach rumbling loudly.

“Yes sire,” Merlin managed to choke out, keeping his face down to hide the cascade pf tears rolling down his cheeks. He picked the tray up and fled the room. He should have moved into the path of the boot.

He made it to his little alcove a few corridors away from prying eyes, before sliding to the floor and letting his sobs loose.

…

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Arthur yelled at Merlin, tiredness making him particularly crabby that day. “Go and fetch me another breakfast!”

“Yes sire,” he heard Merlin stutter, causing Arthur to look up. Merlin never stuttered. He fought back to the point of impertinence. So why wasn’t he now?

He caught sight of the tears glistening on Merlin’s face before the boy scampered from the room and the bottom fell from Arthur’s stomach. Crying. Merlin was crying, because of him. Merlin never cried.

Forgetting that he was in his night clothes, Arthur yanked his foor open and ran into the corridor.

“Merlin!” He called after his servant, guilt gnawing at him as he chased the boy down.

He ran down a less trodden corridor and slowed to catch his breath. He could hear a wretching noise coming from behind a heavy curtain.

He tilted his head to the side and listened closely. Beyond the sobbing, he could hear the whispered, broken voice of his servant.

“Useless, idiot. Don’t deserve to live. Monster. Bastard. Pathetic. Weak.”

Arthur swallowed harshly and hesitantly pushed the curtain back. Merlin didn’t react to his presence, he continued whispering to himself between sobs as he carefully cut into his own wrist with a hunting knife.

“Deserve to be punished. Useless. Worthless.”

“Merlin! What are you doing?” Arthur was horrified at what his best friend was doing to himself.

He reached out and grabbed Merlin’s hand to halt the knife. Merlin didn’t look up, but tugged at his hand as he tried to complete his self-punishment.

“Merlin, Stop!” Arthur commanded.

“Can’t,” Merlin whispered.

“Why not?” Arthur demanded, tugging the knife free and chucking it out into the corridor.

“Have to be punished,” Merlin answered earnestly.

“No Merlin. This morning was my fault, not yours,” Arthur corrected gently. He shifted himself so he was kneeling in front of the boy.

Merlin finally looked up at him, confused. “But I ruined your breakfast.”

Arthur’s jaw dropped. Surely Merlin didn’t take his every jest this way? Looking down at his wrists, he knew Merlin had done this before. How often? Had he carved into his own skin every time he made a mistake? Every time Arthur called him an idiot?

“No Merlin,” Arthur said softly. He reached for Merlin’s neck and untied his scalf. Merlin allowed him to do as he pleased. Arthur carefully tied the cloth around Merlin’s bleeding wounds. “The breakfast was my fault, I shouldn’t have thrown the boot.”

“I should have let it hit me,” Merlin disagreed with a shake of his head. “It was my punishment, I should have taken it.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said his name with a pained sort of whine. “That wasn’t punishment. That was me being grumpy and tired. What could I possibly have been punishing you for?”

“Waking you,” Merlin answered, his lip between his teeth to show how anxious he was.

“Waking me is part of your duties, Merlin. I shouldn’t have thrown the boot at you. I apologize.”

Merlin stared at him, his wide eyes still wet with tears. “Y-you’re apologizing? To me?”

“Of course Merlin,” Arthur said earnestly.

“But you never apologize,” Merlin protested, sounding a little more like himself.

“Well I am to you. Because clearly I have hurt you very deeply Merlin-”

“No Sire, you- it wasn’t- you haven’t- I’m sorry, I-”

Arthur carefully pressed his hand to Merlin’s mouth to silence him. “I have little one,” he said quietly. Merlin stared at him with those big puppy dog eyes. “I have clearly hurt you very deeply for you to believe that I’d want you to mutilate yourself in such a way.”

Merlin sniffled and started to cry again. Arthur pulled him into a strong embrace, rubbing the boys back gently.

“I’m sorry sire. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be bad. I’ll be better. I-” Merlin sobbed into his chest.

“Shh Merlin,” Arthur soothed, rocking them both gently. “You’ve done nothing wrong. I know I never say it, but you are the best servant I’ve ever had. You are a truly good person, you help everyone. It’s okay, calm down little one.”

Merlin’s sobs eventually tampered out and his breathing turned deep. Arthur glanced at his face and saw his manservant had fallen to sleep, exhausted from his tears. Arthur brushed the bangs from the boy’s face and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. He couldn’t believe this sobbing wreck in his arms was the same happy-go-lucky boy that had been by his side for the past two years.

Carefully, so as not to wake him, Arthur shifted Merlin in his arms and stood. Merlin stirred slightly, turning to bury his nose in the Prince’s neck.

Arthur smiled tenderly and began the trek back to his rooms.

Ignoring the stares he was gaining, he bade a passing servant to have Gaius sent to his rooms and inform the king of his (made up) migraine, stating he’d be indisposed for the day.

After Gaius had been and checked on his ward, looking at him with sad and guilty eyes the entire time, Arthur sat on the bed beside Merlin and took his uninjured had into his own.

“I want you to promise that you’ll tell me if you ever feel the need to punish yourself again Merlin, is that clear?” Arthur asked.

Merlin stared at him wide-eyed from his reclined position in the Prince’s own bed. “But Arthur-”

“No buts,” the Prince halted his protests. “No more sneaking off to punish yourself. If you do something wrong, it’s for me to decide what your punishment is. I won’t have you hurting yourself unnecessarily.”

Merlin felt his insides warm at the amount of care Arthur was showing him. But he couldn’t possibly tell Arthur every time he needed to be punished. Arthur didn’t know about his magic, he didn’t know he was a monster.

Arthur could see the conflict in the boy’s face. “What aren’t you telling me Merlin? What’s wrong?”

“I’m a monster,” Merlin whispered, shame filling his eyes as he averted them. “If I told you of certain things, you would surely kill me.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t imagine any scenario where he felt Merlin’s death to be the only answer.

“What makes you think you’re a monster, Merlin?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shuddered, wrapping his arms around his stomach in a self-soothing way. “Everyone says so,” he whispered.

Arthur blinked in surprise. “I’ve never heard anyone say that about you.”

“That’s because no one here knows,” Merlin whined, sniffling again.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, at a loss for how to help his friend.

Merlin looked at Arthur with eyes filled with misery, that suddenly flickered into determination and fear. “I can’t do it anymore,” Merlin said, and nodded as if he were speaking to himself.

“Can’t do what, Merlin?”

“Lie to you,” Merlin said confidently. He took a deep breath and tried to sit up straighter, putting on a brave face. It was one Arthur recognized well from when they were facing a strong enemy with seemingly no way out. Arthur’s stomach plummeted at the thought Merlin could ever see him in such a way, as a potential enemy to be faced. 

“Arthur, I- I’m a- a warlock,” he said.

Arthur’s mouth dropped open in shock. Of all the things his manservant could have said, he wasn’t expecting that. “What?” he asked, a little dumbly.

Merlin crumpled beneath the weight of Arthur’s stare. “I-I have m-magic Arthur. P-p-please don’t kill me. I was born with it. I never had a choice to learn and I would never hurt anyone, you know that. I’ve only ever used it to save you Arthur, I swear. I know I’m a monster. I know. But I can’t not use magic, it will kill me and p-p-please if you have to kill me, please don’t let me burn. I don’t want to burn A-Arthur.” Merlin got more hysterical the longer Arthur remained staring at him silently.

It was the sound of Merlin’s sobbing that broke Arthur out of his trance like state, recalling every moment of the last two years. Each random twig snapping, the stumbling bandits, the mysterious sorcerers that met unseemly demises with no possible explanation. 

Merlin was a warlock. He’d been saving Arthur’s life since the day they met. And he believed himself to be a monster because of laws his father had put into place.

“Oh Merlin,” Arthur exclaimed, pulling his servant into his arms once more. “Shh, you’re okay. I won’t tell a soul. I swear Merlin. You will always be safe with me. Thank you for telling me, you are so brave. Shh little one.”

Merlin sobbed himself out into the Prince’s shirt for the second time that day. When he calmed down he pulled away to look at Arthur.

“Y-you won’t tell anyone?” he asked, worrying his lower lip.

“I swear Merlin,” Arthur promised, kindness in his eyes.

“You- you’re not angry?”

“No,” Arthur denied. “I am so proud of you for working up the courage to tell me Merlin. So, so proud.”

Merlin blushed beet red and Arthur chuckled, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. Merlin’s eyes fluttered shut at the tender gesture.

“Rest Merlin, we’ll talk some more when you wake.” He helped Merlin settle back down into the bed and tucked him in before moving to sit by the fire.

He had always suspected magic wasn’t as evil as his father declared. He’d seen small glimpses of it growing up. But now he knew for certain. There was no way Merlin, good, sweet, innocent Merlin, could possibly be evil. The boy cried over injured bunny rabbits for Christ’s sake.

He looked over at his sleeping servant and felt a deep responsibility settle within him. He had to keep this boy, his friend alive. He had to teach him that he wasn’t a monster, that he was someone worth loving. And he would have to start by fixing his obsession with punishments.

…  
A few months later  
…

Arthur was discussing an upcoming patrol with Gwaine at his dining table when Merlin came in with their lunch. He quickly laid everything out on the table, filled their goblets with wine, and then retreated to the ‘naughty’ corner.

He sat on the chair facing the wall, his shoulders tense as he awaited Arthur’s reaction.

Arthur stared at the back of his head in surprise. It was lunchtime, Merlin had only left his chambers an hour ago to clean his laundry and fetch his lunch. He didn’t have a clue what he could have done to warrant punishment in that small space of time.

“Princess?” Gwaine asked, looking between Merlin’s back and Arthur’s surprised face. “Why’s Merlin sitting there?”

“He’s done something wrong,” Arthur responded unthinkingly.

“What?” Gwaine asked, confused. Arthur looked at his knight, one of Merlin’s best friends, and sighed. 

“Merlin is sat there because he has done something he thinks he deserves punishment for.”

“Why would he let you know that, if he could get away with it?” Gwaine asked incredulously. “What the hell have you done to him?”

“You think I did this?” Arthur asked, hurt at the accusation. “Trust me, this is far better than the alternative.”

“What are you talking about?” Gwaine demanded to know, defensive over his vulnerable friend.

“I found him cutting his own wrists,” Arthur said bluntly. Gwaine looked like he’d been punched. “He was hurting himself every time he did something he thought was wrong that I didn’t punish him for. So I started getting him to do this. It stops his stupid moral head from hurting himself and lets me control the punishment.”

“What do you do to him?” Gwaine asked numbly.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand over his weary eyes.

“You won’t tell anyone about this Gwaine. I only explained to you because I know how protective of Merlin you are. And I know what your imagination is like. If this gets out, it could truly hurt him.”

“I won’t tell, I swear,” Gwaine said, and Arthur knew he was telling the truth. If Gwaine was serious about anything, it was Merlin’s safety.

“Most of the time he’s feeling guilty of being late, or missing a chore, or being disrespectful. Thing the rest of us let go. I give him a couple of swats and we move on. He has more rules than most servants because he starts to unravel a little if he doesn’t.”

“Okay,” Gwaine said, a little relieved. They both looked up at Merlin again. The boy was squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

“Excuse me,” Arthur said. He placed his napkin down on the table and made his way over to Merlin.

He crouched at his side. “Merlin,” he said gently.

Merlin had his head bowed, jaw clenched like he thought the punishment he was about to receive was unjust. Arthur raised an eyebrow at that. It was an odd expression for Merlin to be wearing when he had sent himself to the chair.

“Merlin, look at me,” Arthur said again.

Hesitantly, Merlin raised his head to meet his Master’s eye. His eyes were watery, like he was only just holding back tears.

“Why are you in the naughty corner?” Arthur asked, and Merlin blushed. Arthur had found that it was easiest to get Merlin to talk when he was treated like a misbehaving child.

“I d-didn’t mean to Arthur, I swear!” Merlin immediately denied. Arthur merely raised an eyebrow, used to Merlin’s diversion techniques by now. The boy squirmed in his seat, ducking his head again.

“I was carrying lunch from the kitchen. I was trying not to drop anything so I was staring at the tray and Sir Bedevere walked into me. I swear Arthur, it wasn’t my fault. He just ploughed straight into me and I d-dropped the jug and the w-w-water went all over him.”

It was then that Arthur noticed the bruise forming underneath Merlin’s eye. He frowned.

“What happened then, Merlin?”

“W-well, he was angry with me, understandably, I mean I did drop a jug of water on him and he- I went back to the kitchen to start again,”

“Did he hit you Merlin?” Arthur asked quietly.

“No- yes- but I- I deserved it,” Merlin attested.

“Did anything else happen? Were you running your mouth?” Arthur prodded.

“N-no sire.” Merlin shook his head.

Arthur nodded to himself. “Merlin, what have I told you before about letting other people punish you, hmm?”

“To not to,” Merlin mumbled.

“Correct. Do you know why I tell you this, Merlin?” he asked gently.

“Because you are my master,” Merlin said.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, before reaching to tilt Merlin’s head up. “But also to protect you from harsh or unjust punishments. This incident was an accident, was it not?”

“Yes Master,” Merlin said, looking up at him with wide, earnest eyes.

“Did you mean to drench Sir Bedevere?”

“No Sire!” Merlin said.

“Then you did not deserve to be punished in such a way.”

“But-”

“No little one.” Merlin squirmed at the tender nickname. “Bedevere is a knight. It is his job to uphold the law and protect Camelot’s citizens. Lashing out at you for a simple mistake is not a good quality in a knight. I will be having words with him.”

“No! He didn’t do anything wrong,” Merlin said earnestly.

“You have such a good heart Merlin,” Arthur whispered, pressing his palm to his chest. “But nothing you do gives anyone the right to hit you. I will be discussing this with him, and you will be putting the matter behind you. As far as I’m concerned, the incident is over with. You dealt with it and still arrived on time. I shall not be punishing you, okay?”

“Yes sire, thank you,” Merlin said, his eyes watering again. Arthur rolled his eyes and pulled him into a hug.

It was there, in Arthur’s warm embrace, that Merlin finally lost his battle with the tears. Hr wept into Arthur’s shoulder and the Prince cradled him against his chest, rocking him gently in a comforting gesture.

Gwaine, who had heard the whole thing, was stood with his jaw clenched, a hand grasping at the hilt of his sword.

“Stand down Sir Gwaine,” Arthur ordered quietly, looking up over Merlin’s head at the man.

“What?” Gwaine exploded. “Arthur, the man abused him.”

“And we will deal with it,” Arthur agreed. “In the proper manner.”

“Let me bash his skull in, I’m sure he’d get the message,” Gwaine insisted.

Arthur snorted in amusement. “Believe me Gwaine, I would happily agree with your assessment there if it were not for Merlin’s desperate need for justice. On this we will follow the letter of the law.”

At this, Gwaine’s eyes lit up. “We get to lock him in the stocks?”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC, although they did steal the characters from legend so I don't know if they can complain really.


End file.
